Tikshn stood before the venerable master, his gaze steady and unwavering. The master's eyes, sharp and ancient, pierced through the silence of the dimly lit hall. For countless years, many had come seeking the master's guidance — humble disciples, eager warriors, and ambitious souls craving power. Yet, here was Tikshn, the first in ages, who refused what was offered.
"I will not be bound by your teachings," Tikshn said, his voice calm but resolute. "I trust no one but myself. The path I choose must be forged by my own will, not by the doctrines of others."
A heavy silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the brazier. The master's expression shifted, from initial surprise to a faint, curious smile.
"Interesting," he murmured, stepping forward. "Such defiance... such self-reliance. Few possess the strength of conviction to walk alone. Many beg for my teachings, yet you, who stand before me, reject them outright."
Tikshn did not flinch. "I have learned enough from you, master. Now I must discover what lies beyond your walls."
The master's gaze lingered on him, a rare spark of admiration flickering in his eyes. "Very well. If you truly seek your own truth, I will not stop you. But know this—walking alone in the murim is a perilous path. Trusting no one may be your greatest strength... or your deepest folly."
Without another word, Tikshn turned and stepped into the night, the cold wind embracing him like an old friend.
The master remained where he stood, watching the silhouette disappear into the darkness. Then, with measured steps, he followed—not to command, but to see where this bold, lone wolf would lead?